Spank my funk
there's footsteps in the fog.
Tonight
someone will rip my shroud
and sex the fury.
There's footsteps in the fog.
Creepy crawly
down you fall-y
there's breath on skin,
flesh like lead.
This night
a ghoul will tempt the ghost,
stripped of jackdaw colour.
There benightmares in the fog.
Stick you
with my iron cross,
this evening
hellfire will come home.
Torches dance like electric eels
there's murder in the fog.
You pose like a chaos angel
pumping up my veins,
but tonight
evil is on your back
Darkness changes in the light,
I see red on black
as you disappear.
Fear the monster of a naked heart...
@Steven Francis Poems 2000
Friday 15 January 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment